


The Soldier and the Hunter

by ClicheMoniker



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy Kink, Slow Burn, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24874102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClicheMoniker/pseuds/ClicheMoniker
Summary: Totally not canon, doesn't follow the games at all, only occurs in the Elder Scrolls world, but before Dragonborn stuff goes down.Is unfinished, will likely take me a while and I plan to go back to some earlier chapters and pad things out to draw out the timeline. Thanks for reading!
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. A Dark Figure

Aurora arrived a little before dark, thick gloomy clouds already blocking much of the sun’s light. She trotted in slowly on her grey dapple horse, her silvery white hair whipping loose from her thick braid in the wind. The temperature was rapidly dropping, and a few snowflakes began to softly fall, melting in contact with her skin and the ground. Her breath was visible, and her nose reddened from the cold. She lifted her hood over her face, seeking more protection from the elements. 

She warily inspected the towering timber framed buildings, having only been to town on a couple of occasions. The village was mostly quiet, the silence broken by the heavy pounding of her horse’s hooves on the ground, and a few children laughing and playing off in the distance. 

She dismounted from Glær, grasping the reins and escorting the gentle mare forward towards the guard towers and watchful eyes inside. A large wolf covered in thick black fur appeared from behind her, nudging her hand with his muzzle.  
“Fenrir, Wait here.” she commanded, giving his head a scratch. He hesitated a moment, before turning tail and bounding away. She did not know how the townspeople would react to her companion and she planned not to test their hospitality. 

Leading the horse onward, she approached a particularly large building, with a sign dangling from a post outside. It swayed slightly in the wintery breeze. She read the words “The Queen’s Decree” carved into the wood with ornate and scrawling letters.  
She attached the reins of her horse to the railing outside, giving Glær a pat on the neck, and cupping her hand over the mare’s velvet muzzle, letting her nibble at her fingertips. She removed the pack attached to the mare’s saddle, and hefted it over her shoulder, next to her bow. 

She climbed the stairs, slowly with wariness from her travel towards the heavy wooden doors of the inn. The door did not yield to her pressure at first contact, so she leaned into it with her shoulder, encouraging it open.  
A blast of heat greeted her warmly, and her stomach grumbled at the tantalizing sweet and savory smells. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, finding an empty table, dropping the pack to the ground. She gingerly laid her bow against the wall of the tavern, and removed her cloak, exposing her riding gear beneath. She wore a green linen shirt that had strips of gold leafy embroidery on the sleeves and neck, and buttoned down the front. They were tucked into warm brown leather pants, giving her a more masculine appearance than the wenches in corsets and dresses around her. The fabric clung closely to her form revealing a wholly female shape. Atop her shoulder she wore a stole of white fox fur, matching closely the tone of her pale blonde hair. 

She walked towards the bar, a scruffy older man bowed in acknowledgment at her approach, as he dried out a mug with an old cloth.  
“What can I do ye fer lass?” he asked, his accent heavy. His scraggly beard parted to show a few crooked teeth, many having been lost to time.  
“I’d like a room.” She responded plainly, trying not to stare.  
“Aye, it’ll be 4 gold for the night. Upstairs, on the right.” He nodded his head in the direction of a stairwell, placing a key on the counter.  
She looked down to her waist, opening her pouch, she fumbled for the requested coin before sliding it across the uneven surface of the counter to him, and taking the key in exchange.  
She tucked it carefully into the pouch before pulling the strings that tightened the opening closed, and returned to her table. 

Taking a seat next to her belongings, a homely barmaid in a ragged dress came up to her.  
“What’ll ye have miss?” she said grinning widely.  
Meeting her eyes with a thoughtful smile of her own, she answered. “Bread, and cheese if you have it,” glancing around, she finished politely, “and ale please.”  
The woman curtsied slightly, and walked away to assemble her request. 

While she waited, her eyes roamed around the inside of the Decree. A large hearth raging with fire was positioned on the wall opposite her, bathing much of the room in a warm glow. It was filled by sturdy and unpresumptuous wooden furniture, great beams crossed the ceiling, and a few tattered tapestries lined the walls, leftover from a time bygone. 

A pleasant and upbeat tune originated from a far corner, where a Bard played his flute, and she tapped her toe absentmindedly to the rhythm. Men and women huddled together talking, laughing, and occasionally sent glances her way. She felt she must stick out as an obvious outsider to attract so much attention. 

Finally her eyes came to a dark corner where she could barely make out a large figure. By his size and brooding posture, she assumed he was a man, who sat next to a dimly lit table in the furthest corner from the bar. She could not make out any of his features in the flickering shadows from the firelight. 

The barmaid returned with her order, setting a metal tray before her, and carefully placing the mug of ale. Catching her before she turned to leave, Aurora asked in a hushed tone, “I am looking for an escort, do you know anyone who is available for hire?” The woman beamed at her opportunity to be helpful. “O’course miss! That there is Sir Cassius in the corner! They call him ‘The Battalion’, say he has killed o’er a thousand men by his lonesome. No better sellsword than he, round these parts.” She tilted her head in the direction of the dark figure in the corner, before adding “Plus he’s surely easy on the eyes” and gave Aurora a wink, turning to leave.  
Aurora furrowed her brows at this last bit of information. Does that usually factor in the hiring of a killer?  
She picked at her food, chewing thoughtfully, and sipped her ale. Occasionally she would steal a glance at the man in the corner. ‘How does one hire a mercenary?’ she pondered to herself.  
‘Hi, my name is Aurora, I have someone to kill, come with me?’ she rehearsed in her head, laughing at the audacity of the statement. She finished her drink, and tapped it, indicating she would like another.  
The barmaid came again, cleaning her table of empty dishes and placing another filled mug in front of her with a cheery expression.  
She drank deeply, and considered her plan of action. She was at a fork in the road. She could turn back now, go home, and watch her father drink himself to death in grief. Play it safe, and live out her years hunting in the forest waiting for an encounter that finally didn’t go her way. Or she could proceed forward, claim her vengeance, fight for what she believed in, and find her place in Sovngarde. 

She finished her drink and stood up. She wanted a warrior's life and death. There was nothing left for her. Forward was the only way. 

* * *

The door opened slowly, and he watched the stranger step inside, sizing her up like any potential foe. She pulled the dark hood back from her face, dropped her various items, and draped the floor length cloak over the back of her chair, before walking away from his direction.  
She carried a bow, but was not dressed like a warrior. A messenger perhaps? She chose a quiet table near the fire, and after gossiping inaudibly with the barmaid, she regularly sent glances his way. She had an air of regality to her, head held high, and a slight sway to her hips. This was no lowly peasant or wench. 

She walked up to him with a sense of fearlessness and determination. He was intrigued by the curious creature, and as he lifted his mug to his lips, he smiled to himself. Interrupting his thoughts, she opened with, “I would like to hire your services.” hesitating briefly, then added, “Please.”  
He lowered his mug to the table, and reclined back in his seat, opening his knees suggestively.  
“And what services might those be?” he cocked an eyebrow, smirking.  
She glanced down at his crotch due to his movement briefly and blushed, her eyes returning to him. He stirred at the reaction.  
Regaining her focus and ignoring his blatant innuendo, she answered, “I need an escort to the imperial city.” His eyes narrowed. “And what business would a Nordic Princess have in the Imperial city?” 

His tone was slightly patronizing, as he studied her. She straightened up, averted her eyes, and crossed her arms across her chest. “Is that really something that concerns you?” He laughed, startling her slightly, and attracting her eyes back to his. “Yes, m’lady, if I am to risk my life on some task, I prefer to know why.”  
She bit her lip, not immediately answering. The movement drew attention to the fullness of her mouth, and impure thoughts creeped into his mind. Shaking them away, he returned to the topic at hand.

“500 gold.” He stated flatly, picking up his mug and taking another sip. “500?! That’s outlandish!” Her brows knit together in disappointment and upset. He leaned in and in a low growling voice stated “It is my price, and it is not negotiable.” 

She contemplated his words while continuing to chew at her bottom lip. “Are you interested in wagering a bet?” she finally asked. Her question perked his interest and he leaned back in his seat lacing his fingers together behind his head, “I’m listening. What do you have in mind?” She dropped her arms from her chest, hooking her hands above her hips in a show of confidence.  
“Fight me. If you win, I head out on my own. If I win, you accompany me for 200.” Lifting her chin in a show of defiance. He gave out a large roar of a laugh, attracting attention from other patrons of the inn. He stood up, his brutish size towering over by at least a head.  
He leaned in close, bringing his face towards hers, an intense look in his eyes. “You think you could fight me? A skinny wench like yourself? You would scarcely be able to lift my cock.” and letting out another boisterous laugh, straightening back up.  
Her temper flared, icey blue eyes flashing with anger. With that she wound back and swung at his face, catching him by surprise, and landing her hit squarely on his mouth.  
He froze unmoving for a moment, considering what just happened. Lifting his hand to his face, he thumbed his lip, and looked to see the blood that had seeped forth.  
With a quick movement he backhanded her, hard in the face, causing her to crumpled to the ground. 

A few gasps were audible from the audience their conflict had gathered. Whispers from tables nearby. The elderly innkeeper walked towards him. “E’rything alright then?” he asked with trepidation, obviously not wanting to question the large man’s motives or actions.  
He grunted acknowledgement, before asking, “Does she have a room here?”  
The man nodded, his sparse grey hair bobbing with the movement. 

Cassius bent to pick her up off the ground, and the old man shouted at the barmaid to gather the girl’s things from her table.  
He followed the slow moving old man up the stairs that creaked under their weight. He fiddled with a large dangling ring of keys before finding the correct one for the door.  
Standing with her in his arms, held close to his body, he became acutely aware of the smell emanating from her body. Herbal, but also sweet and flowery, with almost a bite. Mint. Also, Lavender, he decided, dipping his head towards her hair and inhaling deeply.  
An audible heavy click indicated the latch had been unlocked, and the man held the door open wide enough for him to step inside with the unconscious girl in his arms.  
The room was lit by a single candle, and similarly decorated to his own. A small hay stuffed bed, covered by a large animal skin, which he laid her on.  
Turning his head he noted the barmaid placing her things against the wall with care, before quietly sneaking out.  
The innkeeper stood watching at the door, still holding it open, and Cassius nodded in dismissal. He let the door swing close behind him, and the latch clicked securely. 

She lay splayed out on the bed, her full pale pink lips beginning to swell.  
His experienced fingers made quick work of unbuttoning her shirt and loosening her stay so she could get more air. As he maneuvered her to an elevated position on the bed, a medallion she wore around her neck fell free of her shirt. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand and inspecting it. He recognized it immediately as being from one of the noble families of the imperial city. But why was it here, on this girl, so far north? He placed it gently back on the milky white exposed skin of her chest. 

He inspected her face more closely by the candlelight. He was surprised at her beauty, couldn’t have been more than about 19 winters. Her skin was fair, and unmarked save a few freckles that brushed the bottom of her long lashes. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing, drawing his attention to her bosom before roaming over the rest of her clothed body. His pants grew tight, the sensation causing him to pull back, righting himself at the foot of the bed. 

Who was this girl? Where did she come from? Her story, and sense of reckless abandon had very much piqued his curiosity. 

He took a seat by the table in the corner of the room, waiting for her to wake up.


	2. A Negotiation

Stirring slightly, Aurora came back to life. Her face ached, but she felt warm. Writhing softly, her outstretched hands ran the length of a thick fur she was laying on, before moving to touch her face. The pressure smarted, and she blinked her eyes open. She was in a dark room, lit with a solitary candle on the table next to her. She was in a bed, and also noticed that she had been partially undressed. 

The inn! Memories started flooding back to her. The figure, the bet, she had lost, obviously. Was this her room? How did she get here? Had she been assaulted? Her head started to spin. She was on her own, was it too late to turn back? She sat up, causing her head to throb. She brought her hands to her temples and massaged them softly, wishing the pain to subside. 

A cough came from the corner of the room, startling her, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, she saw him sitting at the nearby table watching her. She quickly wrapped her arms around her breasts, obstructing his view of the exposed skin, trying to salvage whatever modesty she had left. 

“Do you always undress and fondle unconscious women?” she insulted, replacing her stay and tucking her medallion back in tenderly.   
“Don’t flatter yourself princess,” he started, “Do you always start fights you have no chances of winning?” He retorted with an equal amount of patronizing vitriol.   
She pouted, her pride hurting almost as much as her face.  
“I have a name,” she said with an eye roll, “besides, what other choice did I have? ‘Please’ seemed lacking for your ‘non-negotiable’ terms.” She finished closing the buttons of her shirt and stood up. Gingerly, she pressed a few fingers to her cheek and winced at the pain.   
“Did you think I wouldn’t hit you back?” he asked, noticing her action, and reaction.   
She glared at his direction, and pressed her lips together forming a tight line.   
“I don’t know what I thought. I thought I needed help,” her eyes welling up with tears, “and I didn’t know any other way to get it.” She walked towards the door.   
“And where do you think you’re going?” he stuck his foot out, blocking her way.   
She stood, looking at the obstacle and pondered the answer to his question.   
“I don’t know yet,” she said with audible melancholy, “I can’t go back, there is nothing left for me.”  
“You know you won’t survive going forward. If you couldn’t handle me, you’d be powerless against the many dangers on the road. Bandits, wolves, slavers…” He said, trailing off.   
“Animals I can handle, I’ve been hunting my entire life.” She retorted, confidently.  
He laughed at her change in tone. “Hopefully your estimation of your bow skills are not on par with your fighting skills. Sit.” He commanded, shoeing the chair out from under the table towards her.   
She hesitated before complying and sitting across the small wooden table from him, her chair wobbling slightly.   
“If I am to take up your cause at your price,” he continued, “then I desire a detailed explanation.”   
She looked at him, her eyes now filled with a renewed hope and swallowed. “I seek to avenge my mother,” she stated, hoping that it would suffice.   
“And your mother's killer is in the Imperial City?” He prodded.   
She nodded acknowledgement.   
“How do you know?” He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back.  
“Because the men who did it left a signed order nailed to the outside of our home they burned down!” She said suddenly with a fiery anger. Her eyes were glassy with emotion. He had struck a nerve.   
“Have you ever been to the Imperial City before?” he asked, continuing his interrogation.  
Blinking, she frowned, “Of course not.”  
“What was the man’s name?” he asked, trying to edge out more details.   
“Lucius Valerii.” She said narrowing her eyes, a dark hatred seeping out of her.   
He laughed heartily, she was taken aback in surprise at his reaction. “So you are telling me, that you wish to walk to the seat of the empire, and kill the highest ranking man in the legion?”  
She huffed slightly, crossing her arms across her chest at his mockery. “Yes!” she stated firmly.   
He searched her face for an indication that she was joking, and none came. “Surely, your mother must have done something awful to elicit such a sentence.” he prodded further.   
Her eyes threw daggers at him then, she was seething, her anger and hatred only barely holding back a tidal wave of sadness. “I will not abide this disrespect!” she stood moving past him.   
Grabbing her by the wrist he stood as well. “Tell me your name.” He ordered, forcing her to look at him.   
“Aurora.” She responded, her voice shaky, the wall crumbling down at a rapid pace, the tears welling in her eyes.   
“So be it Aurora,” he started, releasing her, “Meet me in the morning, at dawn's first light, the road heading south.” He stepped towards the door, and lifted the latch, pulling it open. Without another word, look or acknowledgement, he let it slam closed behind him. 

She stood a moment, staring at the closed door, her head swirling with various emotions. He seemed cruel, but he was helping her. She felt weak, and raw. Throwing herself back onto the fur covered mattress, she let out a sob. 

All the emotions she tried so hard to keep tucked down inside came pouring out of the floodgates. She crawled back onto the bed, curled up into a ball and cried, holding her mother’s medallion tightly. 

* * *

She slept heavily for several hours before finally waking to the first light streaking through her window. She yawned and outstretched her arms before removing herself from the warm bed.   
Her bare feet found the wooden floor and she tested the firmness before standing and walking over to the bowl of water on the nightstand. Dipping her hands into the chilly liquid she splashed it on her face, and patting her skin dry tenderly with the fabric of her white chemise. She pulled the night dress off and rolled it up tightly, placing it inside her pack.   
She picked up her riding gear that was laid over the chair he had been sitting in the night before. She stepped into her pants, and jumped pulling them up past her hips, her breasts bouncing with the movement. She wrapped her stay around her, pulling the laces tight before pulling her linen shirt over her head and buttoning the top few buttons. 

Running her fingers through her hair to detangle it, she separated it in half down the middle then plaited her blonde locks into 2 braids, one on either side of her head. She fastened each braid with a small strip of leather which she wrapped and knotted to hold her hair into place. 

She picked up the floor length black cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders, securing it, and pulled the hood up over her head. Lastly she picked up her bow, strapping it to her back and fastened her quiver to her waist. 

Carrying her pack, she tiptoed silently down the old stairs of the still sleepy inn. The fire inside the hearth had died down considerably, and was now just a warm pile of embers. She pulled the heavy door open, and was greeted by a gust of cold wind. Glær was still tied to the post in front, and shook her head in acknowledgement of Aurora’s return. She first attached her pack to the horse’s saddle before unleashing the leather reins, and leading her towards the southbound road. 

The sky still had hints of pinks and teals, and her escort was nowhere to be seen. Letting go of the reins, and removing her bow, she climbed up on a large, nearby rock. Her mare wondered to a close patch of grass to graze, and she laid back on the hard stone surface.   
She stared into the forest, committing the tall trees, smells, and sounds to memory. A soft breeze rustled the leaves and a hawk could be heard crying in the distance. The morning mist felt cold and crisp against her exposed skin. How long would it be till she felt the comfort of the tall trees again? Would she ever make it back? 

She sat up hearing the approach of heavy footsteps. Cassius was escorting an exquisite black stallion outfitted by impeccable armour mirroring his own. She studied him in the morning light, his short chestnut hair moved softly in the air. He had a wide muscular jaw covered in a few days of stubble, and sharp angular features. His piercing green eyes met hers as he drew near, stopping finally at the bottom of the rock she was on.

“Are you ready?” he asked, eyes glinting in the morning light.   
She nodded affirmatively, and slid off the rock, landing on the ground with a barely audible thud.   
She fetched her horse bringing it towards him.   
He offered his outstretched hand, and she accepted it, climbing into the saddle.   
He followed mounting his steed, and making a clicking noise, pushed forward. 

The barmaid's words echoed in her ears as she admired his poise. This was not the drunk wallowing in the inn the night before. He looked nothing less than an elite warrior in full glory.

* * *

As they walked their horses onward, passing the limits of the town, he heard her shift in her saddle. She let out one long piercing whistle, then turned around like it was nothing.   
He looked around puzzled. Was this girl alright? He was now unsure about his decision to accompany her.   
Suddenly, out from the underbrush a large black wolf came bolting out after them. He grabbed the pommel of his sword, ready to draw it.   
“It’s ok,” she said, noticing his movement, “He’s with me.”  
He released the sword back into its sheath slowly and with much hesitation.   
“You have a wolf?” he asked, curious at this new development.   
“Yea, is that a problem?” She asked with her brow arched, challenging him. Was he scared?  
“Is he friendly?” He responded, as that would factor in his answer.   
She shrugged, a frown on her face, “Not really.”   
He smiled in spite of himself. Was she trying to intimidate him?  
“So, tell me about your wolf, Ice Princess.” He was now making up new variations on the nickname he had given her based on his current mood.   
She glanced at him, with an expression he would almost call flirtatious, before looking forward again.   
“His name is Fenrir, my da found him as a pup,” she started, before continuing, “He said the mother had been killed, and all the others had starved in the nest, save one crying babe.” She nodded in the direction of the dark canine.   
He listened as she went on.   
“I was probably 12 winters when Da brought him home. We became fast friends, I would sneak him scraps from my dinners, which would infuriate my Ma.” She laughed at the memory, and he smiled in response. “He hasn’t left my side since.” she finished finally.   
He continued thoughtful for a time, before reciting a short snippet of prose. 

“Then is fulfilled Hlin's  
second sorrow,  
when Óðinn goes  
to fight with the wolf,  
and Beli’s slayer,  
bright, against Surtr.  
Then shall Frigg's  
sweet friend fall.”

She watched him with surprise at his retelling. “You know our stories?” she asked, bowing her head slightly.   
“You think me an illiterate brute?” he responded teasingly, catching a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye.   
“Would it offend you if I had said yes?” She lilted in a playful response.   
“Very much so.” he furrowed his brows in mock displeasure.   
“Then I shall say nothing,” she said with a grin, and kicking her heels into her mare, galloped forward ahead of him.   
He laughed to himself, and shook his head. He was so used to traveling alone, but he figured if he had to have a companion, he could easily do worse than someone as beautiful and quick witted as she. 

Not to be outdone, he dug his heels lightly and clicked his mouth, causing Arion to jump to life, matching the faster pace.


	3. Unexpected Bedfellows

The sun started to dip behind the tips of the tall trees. He pulled back the reins sharply upward bringing his horse to a stop, it danced slightly backwards, and he turned to face her.   
“We should make camp,” Cassius stated, his eyes roaming the wilderness around him.   
“Here, you mean?” Aurora said with a bit of unease.   
Dismounting from his tall black stead, he walked over to her side, and offered his hand.   
She took it, and climbed down off her horse as well.   
He retook the reins, and with a clicking of his mouth, guided his gentle beast forward into the forest.   
Mirroring his actions, she did the same. Fenrir, noting the change of direction, bounded ahead of them into the underbrush. 

They happened upon a small clearing surrounded by dense trees far enough from the road that they would likely be left alone. He indicated to her to tie up her horse to a fallen tree nearby.   
She did as instructed and when finished, she slipped away in silence. She had something to prove, and needn’t delay. 

* * *

Finishing with Arion, he looked up to order her to gather wood, only to find that she was no longer near her horse. He glanced around, in the now dimming light, and didn’t she her. She had disappeared without a sound. 

Just then, a distant whistle could be heard, out to his side. Her wolf came dashing out of the trees, running past him. He stepped out of the way quickly, stumbling on the rock, and shook his head. ‘Good riddance,’ he thought to himself. 

He gathered up sticks, kindling and a few stones, kicking the ground free of grass with his heavy boots in the middle of the clearing. Carefully constructing the fire, and encouraging the embers to catch. He moved on to putting up his tent, tying ropes between a couple of trees, and laying a set of bearskins inside. He could feel the temperature drop already and knew it would be a cold night. He sat down on the ground with his back against an old tree absorbing the heat from the now healthy fire. His empty stomach gurgled and he fished around in his pack for some of the supplies he picked up in the town.

He heard a thud next to him that drew his attention. She had returned, also without a sound, and tossing 2 rabbits on the ground next to him.   
She then dropped to her knees, withdrew a dagger from her side, and he watched with admiration as she expertly skinned and eviscerated them, tossing the entrails to her loyal beast, who paced nearby with hungry anticipation. 

She reached into a pouch on her side, withdrawing various green herbs. She crushed the leaves in her hand and ripped them apart, rubbed them into the flesh of the cleaned rabbits before skewering them on to sticks she sharpened with her knife and placing them over the fire. 

She wiped off her knife on a rag before standing up and taking her place across the fire from him. She stood by the tree near to his tent and watched the flames intently.

He considered her actions, and finally spoke, “Do not leave without telling me again,” in a commanding tone.   
She raised her brow, “Oh? Are you my father now?” she spat out haughtily, obviously feeling satisfied in her catch.   
Unwilling to abide by her insubordination, he responded, “If I am to be responsible for your safety, then you will do as I say.”  
She rolled her eyes, like an insolent child. He watched her, jaw flexing with clenched teeth, but said nothing not wishing to push the issue. 

“Go set up your tent before it gets much colder.” he finally said, nodding in the direction of his.   
He watched her hesitate, she stared at the ground unmoving.   
“What now?” He asked in a more exasperated tone.   
“I don’t have a tent.” she said quietly, nibbling her bottom lip, “I expected Inns would be more prevalent on the road.”  
He chuckled to himself shaking his head. This girl really understood so little, how did she expect to survive this journey of hers?   
“Then you will share with me.” He said matter-of-factly. 

Still avoiding eye contact, she leaned against the tree, and slid down into a seated position. They stared at the fire, as all numbers of creatures came out and began their nightly tasks and calls, creating a chorus of song. The rabbit and herb mixture began to smell wonderfully, as the ache in his belly intensified. 

She rotated the animals to given even cooking to both sides, before testing the meat with her fingers for doneness.   
Finally withdrawing the cooked meal, she reached across the coals to hand him his share. His hand brushed against hers while taking it from her, causing her to look at him. Her eyes were wide like a startled doe, and he saw so much sadness there. He tipped his head towards her in thanks, holding her gaze intensely. Studying her face, and continuing to watch her as she removed the second slightly smaller rabbit and sat down with it, picking flesh from the bones. The flames flicked shadows over her skin, and he considered what brought her to him and what her story might be. He chewed his meal thoughtfully, the flavor far exceeding what he usually had on the road. 

He reached into the pack next to him, and fished out a bottle of mead. Pulling the cork out with his teeth, he took a deep swig and then held it out to her like a peace offering.   
She eyed him suspiciously, dipping her head to the side.   
“It isn’t poison.” He said with a laugh and shaking his head.   
She raised her brows as if to acknowledge the obviousness of his statement.   
She picked up her meal and stood to come and sit closer to him, reaching out and accepting the bottle. Wiping the mouth of the vessel with her hand, like he might have had some illness she would catch. She lifted it to her lips and tilted back her head to take a deep drink, only overestimated its flow and choked slightly, dropping the bottle back down as a bit of light golden mead ran out of her lips, onto her chin and dripped onto her shirt. She covered her mouth quietly laughing at herself and handing the bottle back to him without looking. He took another swig repeating the exchange. She once again wiped clean the mouth of the bottle, but this time more carefully sipping from it. He could sense her tenseness and discomfort relax slightly.   
“Thank you.” She finally stated, and he understood that she meant for more than the mead.   
He nodded his head, in acknowledgment, staring into the fire. It warmed them as the temperature around them dropped and more snowfall could be seen. He lifted the glass to his lips sipping thoughtfully before handing the bottle to her again.   
They sat together in growing companionable silence. 

She finished her only half of her rabbit, feeding the rest to her wolf. She dug around inside her pack removing a rolled up piece of white fabric and retired to the tent.   
He removed his armor, cleaning and oiling the scales and plates, checking the straps and buckles to insure they did not need repair. The fire had died down to a few embers, when he too stood to enter the tent.   
He stepped past her wolf who bared his teeth and growled in protective warning, before sniffing the air and resting his head back down on his paws, continuing to watch with glowing golden eyes. 

He removed his boots and belt, slipping out of his pants leaving him in his smalls. He pulled back the bear skin. She was huddled far to the corner, on her side facing away from him in a white chemise that draped delicately over her form. Crawling in beside her, he laid on his back, careful not to make contact. He closed his eyes and with a warm and fully belly, let sleep take him. 

* * *

He awoke the next morning as the first rays of dawn were breaking through the thick forest, the sky still warm shades of pink. He was acutely aware of the form wrapped tightly around him. He opened his eyes to see her head laying on his chest, she was sleeping soundly, her face serene and peaceful. She one arm draped low across his abdomen, and one leg intertwined with his his, her chemise hiked high on her thigh.   
He felt himself stiffen in response as he studied her form so close to his. Her breasts were pressed into his side, rising softly with each breath. The neckline of her sleeping gown dipping low. Her hair lit by the sun created a halo around her giving her an ethereal appearance. Her lips were soft and full, parted slightly, and he thought about how they might feel pressed against his. He had the urge to tuck one of the locks of her pale hair out of her face and behind her ear, but refrained as he did not wish to wake her, cutting this moment short.   
He instead inhaled deeply taking in her scent of lavender and mint, his eyes continuing to roam over her body. Her shapely thigh leading to her wide hips, and the light porcelain of her skin. He began to imagine the feeling of her soft thighs around his head. He wondered if he teased her enough with soft kisses if she would beg him for release. What would she taste like, and what noise does she make when she comes? His manhood throbbed at the images swirling in his head. 

She moaned softly, squeezing her thighs together around his leg she writhed against him. His erection started to grow painful as he yearned for release. She inhaled sharply, the sound of waking up. 

He closed his eyes pretending to sleep. 

* * *

The cool air nipped at her exposed skin, the heavy bear fur having been kicked off in the night but she felt warm. Blinking her eyes open she realized she was wrapped up around Cassius! Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. Before disentangling herself from the sleeping man who gave off heat like a forge, she studied him. 

His body was well muscled with a thick patch of hair on his chest that trailed down his belly. He was marked with a smattering of what she assumed were battle scars, some smaller older nicks, and some deeper and more serious wounds he had suffered. It looked to her like a roadmap caused by a life of pain. She turned her head into his side, inhaling the scent of him. He smelled of masculine earthiness and cedar trees. Her lids dipped heavily with relaxed intoxication. 

She continued to look him over, This was the closest she had ever been to a mostly nude man, and only knew what she had read in her mother’s old novels of romance and adventure. As she noticed his erect shape against his smalls, her skin flushed at the realization. She felt a heated and throbbing response emanating from her own sex, and her heart began to pound in her ears as her body betrayed her arousal. The impropriety of it all! She slowly withdrew herself, trying carefully not to wake him. Her arm accidentally grazing the top of his member, and it bobbed in response to her contact. She gasped slightly, and quickened her pace to extract herself from their entangled embrace. She gathered her items and slid out of the tent.

* * *

His eyes flew open as he heard the tent flap move. The sun highlighted the thin fabric of her chemise, revealing the silhouette her form in detail, truly exquisite. The flap closed behind her and his erection would be ignored no longer. 

Moving his hand to his cock freeing it from the fabric confines of his smalls, he gripped himself firmly. He had almost spent when she touched him, he closed his eyes considering how things could have gone differently. He imagined his hand was hers, that she wished to rouse him by confidently grabbing him by his manhood, only to ready him for herself. That she might straddle him wrapping her soft thighs tightly around his hips, guiding herself onto his length. Her hot sex gripping him tightly and riding him slowly at first. How her thick blonde hair would cascade down her body and her tits would bounce as he grabbed her hips, taking control of the pace. How she might moan, her skin slicked with sweat, and if she would dig her nails into his chest or arms while she lost control. He imagined her coming while riding him, and found his own release with a low breathy groan. He laid back relishing the sensation of his orgasm, his heart racing and breathing heavily. He cleaned himself up, pulling on his pants and boots and exited the tent to join her. 

She was already dressed by the time he exited. Packing up and saddling her horse. He rolled up the tent and skins without saying much.   
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, grinning with his back turned to her, considering the memory. 

“F-f-f-fine,” she stammered, “Thank you,” her cheeks reddening.  
He stepped next to her, and began to saddle his own horse. She still averted her eyes from him. He handed her a bit of hardtack he had picked up before leaving. “For the road.” he held it out to her. She accepted, wrapping it tenderly in a bit of fabric and placing it in a saddle bag, dipping her head in thanks. 

She flung her bow over her shoulder, and easily lifted herself into the saddle of her gentle mare. Patting her the side of her neck, she gave the horse a nudge with her heels, prompting her forward. 

Once again he took the lead, and she followed several strides behind him.


	4. Unheeded Warnings

After a few hours of travel, she spotted a human shaped lump on the ground. She galloped ahead to investigate. “Leave it,” he warned her as she passed. Ignoring him, pushing forward. Pulling sharply on the reins, she stopped the horse abruptly. In a single movement, she dismounted and was standing in front of the human form. Cassius stopped behind her mare, but did not dismount. He was irritated that she had again ignored his command, gritting his teeth as he wrestled control of his nervous steed, trying to quiet the horse as it shuffled its hooves and tossed his head and sleek black mane. His horse felt the danger, and so did Fenrir, who was sniffing the air and growled at the mass. She shushed her wolf, and ignored them all as she stepped closer still.

Sure enough it was a man, sitting on the ground. “Hello, are you ok?” she leaned in, trying to determine if he was dead or alive but the view of his face was obstructed by a thick hood. She extended her hand to pull back his hood, only for him to quickly grab her by the wrist and expose a blade he had hidden in his other hand. She let out a terrified scream, startled and her heart rapidly pounding.   
Cassius drew his longsword and jumped off his horse. The man raised his blade to her throat and she struggled against him.   
Bandits began to flow out of either side of the forest onto the road effectively surrounding them. Cassius dashed towards her first. Seizing the opportunity she elbowed her captor hard, giving Cassius an opportunity to strike and his blow was true, stabbing his blade into the man’s side, causing him to drop to the ground and release his grip on her. 

She whipped out her bow as he engaged the onslaught of men. They seemed an assortment of disheveled criminals, different ages banded together by their shared interest in taking advantage of easy targets along the road. He turned to the next and like a well practiced intricate dance he avoided swings and jabs while cutting and slicing at his enemies. She turned away and started rapidly releasing arrows into the men rushing towards them. Occasionally glancing in his direction to see him knocking back one bandit by smashing the pummel of his sword into his face, or disemboweling another. She landed one arrow into the knee of one man Cassius was fighting, the man bent over in reaction and he seized the opportunity cutting the bandit’s head clean off. 

Fenrir barked and nipped at some, occasionally jumping out of the way to avoid their blades. She pulled back and landed a series of shots downing some of the men distracted by her wolf.   
She heard the clash of metal on metal in the opposite direction, she turned, arrow drawn, to see Cassius pull his sword from the torso of one bandit, while another readied himself to strike a blow from behind.  
“CASSIUS!” she shouted, releasing an arrow that flew near to his face catching the remaining man in the eye and exiting out the back of his head. He dropped to the ground, his sword clanging beside him on the stone littered road. 

She surveyed the damage. Butchered men lying in their spreading puddles of blood. Fenrir was tearing at the face of one who was gurgling as he choked on his own blood and she turned her head in disgust at watching the carnage. Cassius wiped his blade clean and slipped it back into the sheath at his back. He began checking the pockets and pouches of their slain foes, liberating them of their coin purses, jewelry and other valuables.   
He came to a particularly young looking boy, couldn’t have been more than 17 winters, and started to unlace a pair of newish looking leather gauntlets, “These should fit you.” he said, tossing them blindly to her. They hit her in the belly before dropping to the ground, as she was frozen in place, in shock and dismay over what they had just survived. Would these men be dead if she had listened to him? 

* * *

The slap and thud of the gauntlets caused Cassius to turn his head and notice her standing there, tears silently running down her face. Her eyes wide with broken innocence, and her bottom lip trembling.   
“Hey, everything is ok.” He said feeling unsure of how to comfort her. She didn’t acknowledge that she had heard him, still seemingly lost in a sea of thoughts and feelings. He stood up and walked towards her. He reached out grabbing her by the chin and forcing her to look at him. “Was that your first time killing someone?” She nodded slowly. Then abruptly lurched forward into him and let out a sob. His hand hovered over the back of her head before gently stroking the back of her hair.   
“You did the right thing. It was a trap, there was no avoiding it.” he continued trying to reassure her, “it was us or them, and they would not have had pity on you”.   
“You saved my life.” he acknowledged finally. She made a loud sniff, and he held her shoulders at arm's length forcing her to look at him again, her deep blue eyes now rimmed with red and puffy from her crying.   
He chuckled “I don’t know how you expected to make this journey to kill a man without actually having to kill anyone.” She pouted at first for the observation at her expense, but it cracked into a smile and she let out a half laugh realizing he was right. He released his grip and wiped the tears from her face, now mixed with grime and streaked with some of the splattered blood from his armour. She was still beautiful, and honestly, she had impressed him. There were 13 bandits in all, and she and her wolf took care of almost half of them on their own. Apparently she hadn’t overestimated her skill with a bow after all. 

She bent down and picked up the gauntlets, trying them on for size. “Thank you.”   
He finished checking the remaining bandits while she remounted her horse which had been spooked into the nearby trees. 

“We have a few more hours before we stop for camp and need to make up for lost time.”   
She nodded in understanding, and they set off at a gallop, Fenrir tagging alongside, tongue out, and smears of blood on his muzzle.


	5. Lecherous Eyes

The sun was low, indicating it was time to stop. He dismounted leading his horse off the road and into the forest once again. These trees were more sparse, the leaves were bright warm shades of gold, orange, red and brown. They littered the ground among the tall yellow grasses. The air was warmer here, and bits of leaves floated on the wind. 

After only a short walk they arrive at a clearing. Cassius stepped to a particularly knobby tree, securing the animal to it. Rubbing the side of the horse's neck, he bent his head down and whispered so only they could hear. The horse twitched it’s ears in response, nudging him, then proceeding to graze on the tips of nearby grass.   
“Does he have a name?” Aurora asked, tying Glær to a different tree not too distant from where they stood.   
His brows knit together, and he unlatched the packs from his horse with care. “Arion,” he finally responded.   
She smiled at the moniker, removing the saddle from her horse, and placing it on a nearby downed tree.   
“Does he ever answer you?” she said, somewhat teasingly. She watched Cassius free Arion of his saddle and armoured cover, a look of confusion cross his face.   
“What?” He responded, caught off guard by the comment, obviously distracted by the great care and consideration he gave his actions.   
She scritched her horse behind the ears. “The swift and immortal talking horse!” she said dramatically, ending with a giggle.   
She watched him carefully run a brush over the horse's back, and it swished its tail. His face softened and he looked to be thinking of an old memory. He smiled a bit, and answered, “He hasn’t yet.”   
He hesitated, before asking, “You know of Imperial Mythology?”   
“Sure,” She answered, then shrugging added, “I estimate most people you see here would miss the reference.”   
“How is that?” he finally looked in her direction, studying her more carefully. “I thought this was your first time to the Capital?”   
She laughed again, her voice having a musical tonality. “My mother had books, she was born in the great city. She would tell us the stories as children, of epic battles, betrayal and destruction.” Her voice faded into sadness, considering her loss.   
He gazed at her with a concerned look on his face. Not wanting to dwell on weighty topics, she switched the subject back to his horse.   
“Have you had him long?” she asked, averting her eyes back to grooming her own horse, who stripped the leaves from a nearby tree, and was munching them.   
Clearing his throat, he answered, “Arion has been my constant companion for the last 10 years.” He shrugged adding, “I’m lucky they let me take him with me when I left the Legion.” So he was in the imperial army, that explained the decadent armour.   
“They would have kept him?” she stated, with a bit of dismay.   
“Sure, he is a great horse, fast, hardy, from top bloodlines.” He answered, then finally breaking a smile, added “However, he wouldn’t let anyone else ride him. Almost broke the back of a young recruit who tried, he bucked him so hard.”   
With that statement, he looked back at the horse with a glint of love and adoration in his eye, giving it a firm pat, as to say ‘job well done.’   
The bond they shared was obviously special, and she smiled to herself at the thought.   
“I must admit that you don’t look like the dark haired imperials I am used to.” she stated, bending to gather a few sticks here and there for their fire while he continued to brush the stallion.   
His brows furrowed at her question, “I could say the same about you.” he quipped in response.   
“Oh, I am not an imperial, my mother came from a noble nordic line that resided in the city as ambassadors from Skyrim.” She paused, before adding, “They were betrayed by another family, an imperial family, who wished to have them exiled when my mother rejected their son’s proposal, so they fled north to return to a more simple life.”   
He hesitated, an obvious look of conflict on his face when she glanced back at him after finishing her explanation. She was content with him not telling her any more but was surprised when he finally spoke.   
“I was born in Riften…” he trailed, and then continued. “I was adopted from the orphanage there, only the adoption was a sham, and I was shipped off to be little more than a slave in the imperial city. I started out as a stable boy to a rich merchant, mucking stalls and caring for the horses, eventually working my way up to training them. Due to my stature and size as a growing lad, the merchant felt it might be a profitable endeavor to have me fight in the arena, placing bets on my life. Only, I got very good at fighting, and I attracted the attention of an imperial general, who after speaking to the merchant, drafted me into service, essentially freeing me.” he finished finally.   
“Did you serve in the legion for long?” she followed up, no longer collecting wood, and instead standing with the bundle in her arms, studying him curiously and considering his words.   
He laughed, “Longer the most, I worked my way up the ranks, and was even given the position of commander.”   
“Why leave then?” this final question striking a cord.   
He frowned, his answer short. “Consider it a disagreement with a superior.” He turned his back to her then, making it clear that the conversation was over. 

She set the bundle of sticks on the ground, and also quickly removed the packs and saddle from her horse, only to disappear again, in search of something acceptable for dinner. 

She stepped through the tall grasses silently, like she had practiced for so many years. Crumpling leaves, she let them fall to the ground to check the direction of the wind, Fenrir sniffed the air. Her well trained eyes spotted movement in the distance. She saw a doe not far away, and was to sure stay downwind from it and approached slowly. Pointing at her eyes, to draw Fenrir’s attention, she gestured in the direction of the doe. Understanding their silent exchange, he set off in the direction she pointed, intentionally steering wide to avoid spooking their prey too soon. She removed her bow and an arrow, lining up her shot and waited. The doe’s head was low but suddenly shot up as she sensed the wolf’s presence. He came rushing out of the underbrush towards the beast, setting the doe to run directly towards her. She released her arrow, hitting it in the chest, mid leap. It lost its footing and slammed into the ground near her. Withdrawing the dagger at her side, she walked toward the beast. Its eyes were full of fear, and its breathing labored. She dragged the sharp blade across its throat, she stroked its face gingerly, as it bled out.  
By this point Fenrir was back at her side, excitedly panting for a job well done and the payment to come.   
She stuck her blade deep in its chest making a vertical cut down its abdomen, spilling its entrails onto the ground. The wolf licked his chops and she reached inside removing and cutting free all of the deer’s innards, considerably lightening the weight. Her arms were sticky with drying blood up to her elbows, and she lashed the deer's legs together, so she could more easily drag it back to camp. 

Trudging through the forest, and picking occasional greens she passed and stuffing them to her pouch she dragged the heavy carcass. She heard the sound of running water, and headed for a clearing. The trees opened up to the most beautiful lagoon fed by a waterfall on the far side. 

She made a mental note to return feeling particularly desperate for a bath to rinse off the build up of grime, blood and now dear viscera.   
Only a short distance farther till the light of the fire at camp was visible. He already had the tent set up, and the flame was going, and he smiled at the prize she had brought.   
“Can you deal with this?” She asked turning to leave after handing him also her pouch of herbs.   
He laughed at the question of his competency. “Of course, but where are you going?”   
“To bathe, there is a lagoon beyond the edge of the treeline towards the east” she tipped her head into the direction, while digging into her pack for her chemise and scrubbing salts.   
He lifted a brow in response.   
“I’ll be fine, I have Fenrir.” she responded, understanding his concern.  
He shrugged and pulled out a knife starting to skin and prepare the deer. 

She stepped out of the forest, unlacing her boots and stripping out of her clothes with urgency.   
She was so excited she didn’t bother to neatly fold her items. She tested the water with the tip of her toes, and found it surprisingly warm for the season, indicating a hot spring in the vicinity. She dove in head first, relishing the sensation of being engulfed by the warm water. She splashed around playfully before swimming to the water’s edge, and pulling her clothing in. Starting by scrubbing her riding gear, focusing on patches of dried blood, followed by her chemise. She then grabbed a handful of the heavily scented salts, dipped them slightly into the water creating a paste and scrubbed them into her skin and face, trying to remove the days of travel and buildup, before moving to her hair. She imagined the more vigorous her treatment the more her guilt about killing those men would dissipate. 

She walked over to the waterfall that fell on to shallow rocks. It’s temperature was more icey, but she stood under it, rinsing her hair free of the suds and rubbing the rest of her skin free of soapy residue. Her skin goose pimpled at the cascade of frozen water, and her nipples became hard and began to ache at the cold temperature. She finished rinsing, then dove back into the deep and warm lagoon, eventually just floating on the water, watching the sky turning from orange and red to purple as the first stars began making their appearance. 

* * *

She walked away and he made quick work of the deer, first skinning, then quartering the meat. He opened the pouch she left, crushing up and sniffing the various greens he found inside considering what'd she might have chosen to pair with the meat. He picked 2 seemingly safe and edible ones and rubbed it down before skewering it as he saw her do the night before. Not wanting to waste the rest of the carcass, he gathered sticks, latching them together creating a rack. He sliced thin cuts of the meat and suspended the rack over the fire to dry the meat in the smoke. Feeling satisfied in his work, he cut off a small and hunk and carried it with him to follow in the direction she had gone. 

He approached the clearing, and saw her wolf, the ever present guard, and he crouched low in the brush and offered out the meat he was carrying. It sniffed the air and tip-toed forward accepting it, and he gave him a good scratch behind the ears and pat on his midsection. 

Standing up, he observed Aurora walk into the waterfall, and proceed to massage and shake her hair, and then run her hands over every inch of her body. He felt a slight pang of guilt at watching her, but like some wild goddess in a tale of yore, he was transfixed, unable to move. The water cascaded off her body, jutting out as it made contact with the more shapely aspects of her figure. Her breasts were pert with erect nipples, her narrow waist opened to her generous hips and shapely butt. His pants tightened as he observed her. Not even his imagination could compare to the real thing. Her legs were athletic and well muscled leading up to the fair hair covering her sex. He turned his face away and cleared his throat, and she dove into the deeper water. 

He stepped forward and loudly announced himself stomping his feet. She abruptly dove under the water's surface and arose to see him petting her wolf.   
“He’s not a very good guard is he?” he said teasingly.  
“Normally he is a very good guard! However, for some reason he seems quite taken with you. I cannot imagine why.” she responded snidely before demanding “What are you doing here!?”  
“To bathe of course.” he said with an arrogant smirk, “Are you saying you don’t think he just senses what a trustworthy and honorable man I am?” He began unbuckling the sides of his chest armour, his movements were intentional, deliberate, and slow, holding her gaze. Finally lifting it over his shoulders and resting it on the ground beside him.   
“I think you heartless, greedy, thieving…” she said trailing off, seemingly less committed to their banter, likely distracted by watching his sweat covered muscles ripple under his skin with his movements. He bent over to remove his boots, a lock of hair falling into his eyes.   
“Tisk Tisk," He said, shaking his head. "I took your charity case didn’t I? That hardly makes me greedy.” Standing up to unbuckle his belt and slip out of his pants already barely containing his rock hard erection. He watched her intently as she bit her lip, the unmistakable look of lust in her now dark eyes.   
He smiled, clearing his throat to grab her attention. Her eyes flew up to meet his and her face flushed with embarrassment. She turned away from him.  
The water splashed next to her as he dove in, surfacing nearby. “Tell me, my wild princess, do you like what you see?” he said with as much smolder as he could muster.   
She backed away from him awkwardly, “I have to go.” She hurriedly gathered her chemise and put it on before exiting the water. She picked up her remaining items littered around the bank skittered away still barefoot, the wet white fabric clung translucently to her body and hid nothing. He laughed to himself stretching out in the water. 

‘Well, at least I know the attraction is mutual,’ he thought smugly to himself, satisfied that he was able to get a rise out of her. 

* * *

Her cheeks burned, not only with humiliation, but a new found hot aching sensation. Had she really just leered at him so openly? She felt mortified. She returned to camp and saw his expert set up, a large portion of the meat was smoking in the warm air, and the roasts smelled delightfu and she gave them a turn. She hung her clothes and positioned herself by the fire, drying her chemise against the warmth. She finally pulled one of the smaller skewers off the coals and dug in hungrily to the meat. It was surprisingly well flavored. He had given it some effort she thought. 

She considered her options. 

She could leave. She could pack up and leave in the night while he was sleeping. Ride on to the next town and hire someone else. She hadn’t paid him yet. Warming by the fire and her belly full. She pulled on her now dry riding gear and retreated into the tent.   
As she huddled under the bear skin, she heard him return to camp. Spying him from the ajar tent flap, she watched as he removed skewer from the fire, and helped himself to a serving. He pulled his chest armour into his lap, and with great care, cleaned and polished the metal with painstaking detail before hanging it on a nearby branch. Fenrir lay at his side, situated near the fire, occasionally receiving a pet or scratch in an unexpected exchange of tenderness from the brutish man. She clenched her eyes shut and he turned to join her in the tent. She heard him slip out of his pants, and felt the brisk, cold air on the back of her neck as he pulled back the furs, and slipped in beside her. Her heart pounded, mind reeling, as she rehearsed her plan in her head and waited. 

A short while passed before the small snores of unconsciousness were audible. His body radiated heat, and she pulled back the bear skins slowly trying to silently extricate herself from the tent. Crawling out into the darkness, she failed to notice a small twig till it was too late. It snapped loudly under the weight of her knee, breaking the silence of the night. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked accusingly.  
His fast response gave her pause. ‘Was he already awake? Had he anticipated her plan? Was she that transparant?’ She wondered, her thoughts racing. She froze, feeling like some animal caught in a trap.   
Uncomfortable with the dynamic, and ready to face his wrath, she straightened up. “I am heading to the city!” she said indignantly.   
“HA!” he spat out, “Without me? I haven’t been paid, and you fancy skipping out on your debts?”  
She furrowed her brows and bit her lip at being found out. “I was going to leave the gold I promised you in your pack.”  
He sat up on his elbows, the embers casting a faint glow on his face, she could see his eyes narrowed at her. “You’re a terrible liar. You are just giving up? What about that sob story you told me about your mother, was that a lie too? You’ll get nowhere on your own. Traded to the nearest slaver before you even reach the capital.”   
She felt a stab of pain in her chest. He was right, how dare she act with so little honor.   
He rolled over with his back to her, “Now get back to sleep if you wish to make it to the next town by nightfall.”  
She blinked out a few tears before crawling back to her place. She was hurt, and angry. She resented him, and most of all was upset that he was right. She didn’t know what frightened her more, the danger she faced if she had successfully run away, or staying by his side. She was betrayed by her body when he was near, fighting hard to control and ignore the involuntary response. 

The next morning she awoke and he was gone. She opened the flap looking out. Most of the camp and his things had been broken down and packed away. She panicked, had he abandoned her? He would have been right to leave with how she behaved. What was she going to do? Did she even know the way? Wasn’t this what she wanted? The reality of her fantasy being much more terrifying than she expected, her head began to spin in anxiety.

Then he appeared, full waterskins in hand.   
“Roll up the tent and let’s go.” he commanded without even glancing at her. 

She breathed a heavy sigh of relief at the sight of him. Focusing on slowing her heart rate. He hadn’t left her. His manner indicated that he was still upset with her, and rightfully so. 

She was embarrassed, defeated, and they rode together in silence. The trail was uneventful and they mostly avoided stopping.


	6. Inn of Ill Repute

They approached a small village, a few short buildings mostly surrounded by farms. Still on the outskirts, she dismounted from her horse, and Fenrir jogged up to her side. Unsure how the townspeople would react to a large wolf, trained or not, she pointed into the forest, and in a firm voice commanded, “Go!” He set off into the wilderness, bounding over greenery till his shape disappeared into the night. 

The moon was not out making the darkness particularly impenetrable. The torches lit outside welcomed them forward. They stopped at a stable, already quiet and empty, escorting their horses into a paddock. They removed their packs and Cassius moved towards the door of the house adjacent to the stables, giving the door a loud knock. The door cracked open, and she saw the face of an older man inside, his face lit by the warm glow of fire. They spoke in hushed tones and she couldn’t make out the words at her distance, but the man nodded his head and closed the door. 

He turned to join her and they walked side by side to a large building with a sign outside reading “The Drunken Siren.”  
He led the way inside, and she slipped in behind him before the heavy door closed. He dropped his gauntlets on an empty table “Wait here.” he commanded and indicated with a gesture that she should sit. He walked towards the inn keeper exchanging some words before heading back to join her. She looked around, this Inn was considerably more dingy then the last, populated with dirty peasants, shifty individuals and women who were obviously for hire. The innkeeper leered in her direction a visible hunger in his eyes. She looked away, suddenly feeling very exposed in her riding gear. She wrapped her arms around herself to minimize her form, wishing it had been cool enough to wear her cloak for added visual barrier. 

Cassius returned, sitting across from the table from her, reclining back in his chair. A buxom redhead carrying a tray of food and drink headed towards them. Her large, heavy breasts almost falling out of her tattered green dress. She wore a bit of rouge on her lips and cheeks, but her age was showing around her tired eyes. She grinned widely as she got closer. 

“Sir Cassius! It is always a pleasure to receive a visit from you!” She slammed the items down in front of Aurora, without glancing in her direction, her full attention focused on the man next to her. She grabbed the mug of ale and drank deeply to help alleviate her feelings of discomfort. “It has been too long since we last saw you around these parts!” she flirted, bending down to serve his food and drink, rubbing her breasts against him slightly. Leaning in closer to whisper loudly in his ear, “I do hope to be seeing more of you this evening.”   
Cassius gazed directly at her, never breaking his sight to look at the red haired woman, as she drank more deeply.   
“I don’t think so.” he responded flatly.   
The red haired woman followed his gaze to the blonde sipping her mug of ale, and flashed a smile. With a raise of her eyebrows and tilting closer she said “is he not the best fuck you’ve ever had?” with a grin, like they were sharing a secret between bosom friends.   
“I wouldn’t know,” she responded curtly, finally lowering her empty glass, and tapping to indicate she wished for a refill.   
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t tell me Cassius has lost his ability to charm his way up anyone’s skirt..” she trailed off furrowing her brows and inspecting more closely, “Unless to say, you’re a virgin?”   
Her cheeks flushed bright against her pale skin, and without looking up confirmed the woman’s assumption.   
She cackled in response, “Oh love, I cannot imagine your frustration!” addressing Cassius once again. Rubbing her hand into his shoulder “Then you really must come visit me tonight,” she finished in a lower and more sultry voice.   
Tears started welling up in her eyes at her exposure and the whores mockery.  
Witnessing her visible discomfort, he grabbed the redhead’s hand and removed it from his body. Finally looking at her stated firmly, “Leave us Fiona!”   
Fiona straightened up and huffed in response, sending a glare her way. Hastily fetching a pitcher to refill their ale without further remark, as she picked at her food.

Breaking the silence, she asked bitterly, “So that is the type of woman you like?” Unable to meet his gaze, her voice wavering slightly with thinly veiled emotion.   
“Not exactly.” he responded, forking a loaded bite into his mouth. She could feel his eyes on her, watching intently, probably trying to figure out why she reacted so strongly. 

She took another deep drink, not wanting to feel this way anymore. She was hurt, humiliated again, and blamed him for the situation. Her next words were filled with feelings of passionate righteousness and superiority. “This is your story? You kill people for money, and fuck cheap whores?” She was incensed by the exchange, uninterested in pondering her own motivations. She tapped her mug for another refill. 

His jaw tightened at her disrespect. He disregarded her question and asked his own, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She finally met his eyes so he could see the fury inside. “Because not everyone discusses their sexual exploits as if it is a measure of someone’s interest or worth!” her words beginning to slur, “Besides, I hardly see why it is any of your business!”

He glowered at her, eyes squinting before taking a swig. He set it on the table and tapped it as well, matching her pace. The whore hurried over pouring more liquid into their mugs. “Because I would not have shared a tent with you.” He finished in a low tone, full of seriousness.

She scoffed “Oh! A nobel barbarian! To protect my honor and chastity!” Dramatically, she flailed her wrist to her forehead like a damsel in distress, stoking the flames of his anger.   
She rolled her eyes and lifted the mug to her lips to take another drink.   
He grabbed her by the wrist holding her drink, the liquid sloshing over the rim, spilling down her arm and onto the table. In the flickering candle light she could see how deep her words had cut, his barely controlled rage matching her own.   
“Do not mock what you do not understand!” His eyes bore holes into hers in warning. 

She shook free of his grip, indignantly. She took pleasure in their conflict, his heated reaction to her anger. She finished this drink as well and stood up, albeit unsteadily. 

“I wish for the key to my room,” she announced as if he was her servant. He finished his own drink, slamming the mug on the table almost toppling it over, and drawing a few sideways glances from patrons at the loud noise. 

* * *

He stood up as well, grabbing her by the elbow and forcefully escorting up the stairs of the inn to the rooms, unlocking one and following her inside, locking it behind him. 

“That is all.” she turned her back to him, and released her hair from the large twisted knot she wore high on her hair, shaking it out and letting her hair fall wildly down her back. Glancing over her shoulder at him she added, “You can go.” in a condescending tone. She bent down to unlace and remove her boots, giving him a full view of her ample butt in her tight riding pants. She either didn’t know she was making it worse or didn’t care.   
“This is OUR room, princess” He responded.   
“You don’t expect me to sh-” she was interrupted by him stepping closer to her, causing her to stumble.   
“I expect you to do as I tell you while I am entrusted with your safety.” he retorted in a low growl, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“I see.” She seemed to stop and consider a moment, biting her lip.   
Her lids heavy with the influence of the ale, enhancing the length of her lashes. Her cheeks, lips and nose were slightly flushed giving her the appearance of arousal. She stepped closer to him till their bodies were touching. She began unbuttoning her shirt, her breathing faster, and her breasts pressing into his arms which he lowered. She ran her hands up them, across his shoulders and down his chest.  
He swallowed hard, his cock growing unmistakably hard. She turned so her back was turned to him, her round butt pressing on him through the fabric of his pants and she unlaced her stay.   
“Isn’t this what you want?” She said in a breathy voice, her hands reaching up behind her gliding up the sides of his neck and lacing her fingers into the hair at the back of his head sending shivers down his spine. She tilted her head to the side exposing her neck and he glanced down at the open front of her top. Her medallion dangling loose between her breasts as she writhed against him, trying her hardest to elicit a reaction.   
In spite of his most stern control, it was working, his breath caught in his throat and his heart began to pound. He closed his eyes tightly. He wanted nothing more than to run his hands up and down her body, grab ahold her pert breasts and to rip off her remaining clothes, before pushing her up against a wall and roughly claiming her as his.   
She turned around to face him, wobbling slightly and grabbing him to steady herself. She hiccupped softly, reaching for his belt, and fumbled to tug it loose. His manhood pulsed at her proximity and intent.   
He grabbed her by the wrists pinning them to the sides of her body, forcing her to look at him. She was a mess, drunk, half undressed and on the verge of tears. 

He wanted her, but not like this. 

He shoved her backwards on to the bed, and stood over her at the foot.   
“Just any willing female fuck hole will do right?!” she shouted at him, her voice quivering with emotion.  
“Get a hold of yourself!” he commanded, to her as much to himself. He could see the immediate hurt in her eyes, she looked away, and tugged her shirt closed to cover her exposed breasts.   
He turned on his heel and left the room. Locking it behind him. 

He sighed a breath of relief, as he leaned against the other side of the door, listening to her sob inside. She had some pull over him he didn’t understand, and it was taking everything inside him to walk away. Why had her words cut him so easily, and what did he care to impress her?

He needed a distraction. 

* * *

She woke up to the sun streaking through the window and onto her face. She opened her eyes only to feel the searing pain in the back of her head caused by the bright light. She was dressed in her chemise and wrapped in fur on a bed. The images from last night came flooding back to her. Her angry jealous words, throwing herself at him, his rejection and her hurt. Once again she felt mortified over her actions.   
“When will I stop being so dreadful?” She chastised herself, sitting up in the bed and taking in her surroundings. His sleeping furs were laid out on the floor next to her. A tray of warm fruits and grain in a bowl on the table, along with a large mug of water. Across the room, near to the door was a fabric package wrapped up in straps, with a single white flower on top. She reached towards the table giving the mug a deep sip, before ravenously attacking the bowl of food. It smelled of exotic and sweet spices. She chewed thoughtfully, staring at the package and considering how she might apologize.   
When she finished the contents of the wooden bowl, her belly feeling full and warm, she finally slipped out the skins, dropping her feet to the wooden floor. She stood up, and gave a great yawn and stretched out her arms. 

She walked closer to the package on the table to inspect it, picking the small white flower up and giving it a deep inhale. It’s perfume was heady and sweet, she placed it back down on the table and ran her hands along the thick canvas wrapped in leather strips. feeling its texture before pulling the binds free. 

The canvas fell open revealing the exquisiteness of the gift inside. A pale ash coloured leather that appeared expertly tooled, metal rivets and inlays studded the seams. The shoulders and back were flanked with bits of scale, similar to Cassius’s. At center chest, where the neckline dipped, was the expertly shaped face of a wolf. She traced the floral inlay motif gently with her fingers. Truly this was crafted by a master. This was far too extravagant of a gift, and she blushed at the thought, but it was so beautiful and far exceeded her own riding gear, she couldn’t refuse. She picked it up off the table reveling in it at full length. Slipping it on, and tightening the lacing, it appeared to have been made for her shape, as it fit perfectly. The soft, supple leather stretched around her like a second skin, and she smiled to herself, fingering the silver wolf head at her chest, Fenrir she thought. She combed her fingers through her hair, forming one large braid that she pulled over her shoulder, she was excited to thank him for his purchase, and also apologize for how horridly she had behaved the night before. 

A heavy knock at the door startled her. She threw back the latch, and gave the hefty door a tug. Cassius stood before her, his eyes rimmed with darkness, giving him the appearance of exhaustion. He stepped past her from the dimly lit hallway into the bright room, and turned to face her. 

“Thank you.” She said with earnestness, knowing she wasn’t really worthy of such a gift.   
His eyes roamed over her body, inspecting it closely. “Do you like it?” he asked finally.   
“Oh! Very much so!” her words inadequate to describe her love for it.   
“I am glad to see that it fits.” he stated without much emotional tone, while turning to kneel next to the bed and roll his bear skins up. “We need to head out.” tucking the roll under his arm, he stood up, glancing at her again on his way out. 

Had he spent the eve with that redhead after all? The thought of him undressing her last night after touching that woman caused her stomach to turn in revulsion. But ultimately, what business was it of hers? She had no claim to him. She purchased his protection, not his celibacy. 

She wrapped her old riding gear up in the linen wrap, securing it closed with the ties. Only when doing so did she notice the wrap itself was a tent. He had gotten her, her own tent. She laughed as she felt a tear escape down her cheek, wiping it away with a crooked smile. The noble barbarian indeed.


	7. Dangerous Beasts

She walked outside of the inn, greeted by a brisk morning gust of air, but the sun was already warming her skin. She traipsed happily towards the stables. His horse was already saddled and waiting outside, but Cassius was nowhere to be seen. She walked up towards her mare, who was currently being groomed by a boy with his back turned to her. She approached maybe too quietly, for when she appeared across from him and gave her horse a scratch, the boy was so startled, he dropped his brush. They both crouched to pick it up, locking eyes under the belly of the horse. She reached it first, holding it out for him to take. He blushed and smiled, “Thank ye miss. I’ll have yer horse ready straight away!” he said urgently. Standing and picking up his pace. Still a little gangly and not quite filled out, he must have been about her age, maybe a winter younger. He smiled again and she caught him trying to steal glances at her. She giggled to herself, also standing, “No need to rush, I have a bit of time yet.” she moved towards Glær’s face who nuzzled her softly.   
“No we don’t.” Cassius interjected curtly, coming up from behind, seemingly unimpressed with their flirtatious exchange. He stepped between the stable hand and the mare, creating a physical barrier between them, and placed her saddle on Glær. How long had he been watching, she wondered. She buckled and secured the straps on her side while he did the same, then attached the pack and canvas roll to the saddle. He walked around and passed her bow to her before offering her a hand for her to mount. She strapped it to her back, then hesitated before accepting his hand and climbing onto the horse's back. She glanced down to see what appeared like a glare on Cassius’s face towards the young man. Was it an act of dominance? Possessiveness? The boy lowered his gaze, and walked away in a dejected manner.

“Was that really necessary?” She asked in a volume that only he could hear. He led the horse by the reins out of the stable and towards his.   
“He should know his place and station.” He said with disdain, before adding “And that includes not eye fucking you.”   
He handed the reins to her, and gave her horse a hard smack on the rump, sending her unexpectedly into a gallop. She had a snide response on the tip of her lips, but the jolted movement caught her off guard and by the time she steadied herself, she was out of earshot and the moment had passed. Pressing the issue at this point would have been petty, she decided.   
He mounted his own horse, and followed behind her, eventually surpassing her and taking the lead. 

Upon exiting the city limits, she gave out a loud whistle that pierced through the trees, sending a flock of birds into flight. A short while later, Fenrir sprinted out of the underbrush into the road behind them. 

After some time on the road, they slowed to a walk, and she trotted up beside him.   
“Cassius,” she started, “I want to apologize for last night.”   
“Shh!” He held up his hand to silence her and looked off into the forest.   
“I said very wicked things to you, and behaved in a manner not at all true to who I am…” she prattled on.   
He jumped off Arion, who backed up cautiously, drawing his sword. She looked around for whatever he sensed. Her wolf had disappeared, and apprehensive, she drew her bow as well. 

Suddenly a great bear came barreling towards them through the grass and over a small outcrop of rocks. It stopped when it got in range, as Fenrir appeared between Cassius and the bear, snarling and growling. She quietly drew an arrow and took aim.

The bear reared up on its hind legs and roared in a manner that shook his whole body, strings of saliva dripping from his teeth. The action spooked her horse, who reared up in response, and she was thrown backwards off it. She fell hard, against the ground, bow and arrow being thrown from her grip as the horse galloped the opposite way. She ached, but looked their way, and Cassius let out a yell of his own before charging the bear with his sword. Fenrir was circling, and biting the bear from behind. The bear swiped his arms in a large arc in front of him, the wolf ducked out of the way, but the blow struck Cassius full on, knocking him back, and she saw blood drip from his armour onto the light colored dirt road.   
Her heart raced, and willed herself up off the ground and dove for her bow. Cassius was engaged once again, swinging and blocking the bear that dwarfed him. Fenrir was locked onto one of the bears legs, tugging to get it off balance.   
She pulled another arrow out of her quiver, and released it into the bear, hitting the shoulder and missing any vitals as she didn’t want to miscalculate his actions and hit Cassius by mistake. The bear knocked Cassius back on the ground, and she released another arrow this time landing in the soft fleshy part of his torso. It did not down him, but it did bring on the wrath of his attention, and he moved to charge her. She shrieked and covered her face expecting a brutal and painful death that did not come. She dropped her arm down below her eyes to see Cassius holding his sword deep in the chest of the monster.   
She got up, running to him. Without thinking, she grabbed him by the arm, causing him to recoil in pain. She stepped back, bumping into Fenrir who had joined her. She steadied herself with his back, and then gave him a scratch behind his ears while he stood panting. Cassius hesitated then pulled his blade out of the bear, and slid it back into its sheath.   
She watched him as he dropped to one knee, removed a blade from his boot, and started to disembowel and dress the bear. Fenrir whined in excitement between pants. He stood back up, returning the dagger to his boot, and obviously favoring one side of his body. 

“It’s still early, we should continue on yet.” he said with his back turned to her, facing the beast.   
“Your wounds need attention.” she argued, “We should stop here.”   
“I’ll be fine!” he assured, followed by a command: “Go fine your horse and then help me haul the bear onto the back of her, she will take it better and you can ride with me.”   
She complied, Glaer had startled and run off, and she jogged a short distance to catch up with her, finding her near to an almost dried up pond chewing on some of the still green grasses. She grabbed the horse by the reins leading it towards the road where Cassius stood.  
Joining him, they lifted the corpse, now considerably lighter but still heavy over the saddle. He groaned through gritted teeth at the pain the action caused. She bit her lip unsure what to say or do to assist him in his suffering. He latched the legs together with rope, ensuring it wouldn't slide off then taking his horse by the reins he offered her his hand and she mounted the stallion who she remembered he said clearly would not let anyone else ride him. He mounted the horse behind her, and wrapped an arm around her narrow waist. He latched the reins of her horse to his, and then nudged his horse forward with his heels. Her arm wrapped around the arm he held her with, and warmth pooled in her belly at their closeness. Now was not the time for indecent thoughts and she kicked herself.


	8. Roadmap of Pain

They stopped a little earlier than usual this eve. The trees were much more sparse now, the air was still and the temperature warmer. He guided his stallion forward to one fruit tree, before dismounting and offering her a hand to follow. He attached the reins to a low branch, secured the second horse, and cut loose the bear from it’s saddle, dropping it to the ground and still favoring one side. The horse reared slightly at the heavy fall.   
She unpacked everything, and gave her mare a quick brush. He dragged the carcass towards a small clearing. She began to gather sticks and wood. Pulling all the dried grasses from the center of their would-be camp, so when they started a fire it wouldn’t spread and consume everything around them.   
He found a dead and dried up tree, and snapped off several large branches with which to secure their tents, then unrolled the bearskins inside.   
She rolled a few heavy rocks into a ring at the center, another barrier for the fire, and also a good surface to cook the meat on. He used the supplies that she gathered to start a fire while she tended to butchering the bear meat, swatting away flies hungry for their chance to access the carcass.   
They worked quietly together like an efficient and comfortable team. Each aware of their place and responsibilities. The fire caught, and he finally lowered himself to a seated position against a large rock, he let out a low groan of pain. She added a few choice cuts of meat she had seasoned to a now hot stone, and skewered a few other thin strips to smoke, before turning to dig in her pack. She pulled out a roll of linen, a water sack, and a bag of scrubbing salts and brought it towards him.

“What is that for?” he asked skeptically.   
“I intend to dress your wounds.” she said matter-of-factly.   
“I’ll be fine.” he responded gruffly, shifting slightly and wincing at the pain. She watched his face in the last light of the setting sun.   
“Your stubbornness is unnecessary.” She stood over him, and lowered herself, straddling his legs that were flat in front of him. Her determination was unwavering. She placed the items on the ground next to them, and began to fiddle with the straps on the side of the chest armour. With the final one loosened, she tugged it open softly, and he lifted his arms to assist her in removing it over his head. The heavy armour banged slightly against his wound, opening it and evoking a loud hiss. She tossed it to the side, and examined his wound. It was a deep vertical slice on the inside of his bicep, still seeping blood. Picking up her roll of linen, she ripped off a section using her teeth, and dumped out some of the salts onto the fabric. She poured a bit of water from the skin wetting the mixture and massaged it in her hand.   
“This is going to hurt.” She stated.   
He looked at her hand, then to her face full of concern, and he nodded permissively. She opened her pouch and bit a few leaves into her mouth and started chewing.   
He bit his lip at the searing pain of her cleaning and scrubbing the wound. He distracted himself by watching her. The concentration on her face, her brows knit together. The sun at her back lit her hair in a radiant halo as much of it was pulled free of the braid she wore. The armor he made her fit perfectly, the light color of the buckskin complementing her tone. He admired his craftsmanship and also how well he estimated her measurements after only a few days together. He was glad that she liked it, and he was proud that she wore it. He wanted to think about the intimacy of their closeness, but the pain was causing his mind to cloud and drift.   
She pulled away finally and dropped the bloody rags onto the ground.   
The action snapped him back to reality. She pulled a wad of crushed herbs she had masticated into a paste out of her mouth and smeared it into the cut, covering the whole way.   
The mixture felt icey at first, then began to tingle and slowly numbed with his amazement. She took the remaining clean linen and gently wrapped his arm the whole length of his gash, tucking the ends in to finish.   
No longer focused on the pain, he watched her more closely, finally able to enjoy the moment they were sharing. Her movements were so gentle and tender, occasionally looking up at him with her bright blue eyes if he jerked or made noise indicative of pain.   
He remembered the jealousy he had felt at the stables earlier in the day. Her bashful and flirtatious exchange with the boy who was simply not worthy of her affections. She was beautiful, smart, fiery, and deadly. She sparked something inside of him he didn’t know existed, and he wanted her all to himself.   
Seemingly satisfied with her work, her eyes floated over the rest of his exposed torso. She traced her fingers along some of the scars on his shoulders and chest, alighting a fire in his skin at her touch. Without looking up, she asked “What happened to you?” Sounding far off in thought.   
“You don’t come out unmarked in a life of fighting.” He tried to laugh it off as a part of the job.   
She traced a particularly deep scar from his shoulder blade across his breast. The tissue ached slightly even at her soft touch.   
He held her hand still with his on his chest over his heart, causing her to lock eyes with him.   
His heart pounded, this girl had such an intoxicating effect on him. As he reached to pull her closer against him, and press his lips against hers, some of the bear fat started to pop and sizzle on the rock. She turned her head away towards the sound, and breaking free of his grasp, stood up to tend to it.   
The moment was ruined, and he lifted his knees towards his chest, sighing heavily to himself. 

He nodded towards his tent. “Bring me the small pot of ointment and leather roll of tools. Change out of your armour and I shall show you how to care for it.”   
She walked to the heavy leather pack sitting on the ground next to his tent. Opening it, and reaching inside she fished around for a moment before locating the requested items. She brought them to him before slipping into her tent with her white fabric roll. She exited wearing her chemise with her armour in hand. The translucent fabric flowed around her, the neckline falling open and off one shoulder exposing her collarbone and chest above her breasts. She returned sitting near to him, but without making direct contact, he felt himself stir and cleared his throat. She handed him the armour, and he turned it over in his hands, admiring his handiwork and smiling to himself. 

“Anywhere you see the leather has stretched tight, or begins to crack, you must oil it.” slipping some of the ointment out of the jar and rubbing it between his fingers before massaging it into the leather of the armpit. “Joints and seams are more prone to quickly wear.” he continued, mirroring his actions carefully on the other side. Opening the leather roll and removing a set of metal tools, he lifted the shoulder and pulled ajar the leather backing. “The scales are individual pieces that work together as a solid unit. If one piece fails, they become weak and vulnerable.” He pointed out their alignment from behind, but it seemed almost like he was speaking of more than armour. He handed her a soft cloth, “And you can use this to shine the steel and wipe away the blood and moisture that would corrode the metal.” handing the suit back to her. 

She studied it carefully in the flickering light of the fire, considering its symbolism and how personal it suddenly seemed.   
“How do you know so much about this?” she asked, gazing up at him.   
His eyes looked distant then, like they were grasping a memory of olde. “When I had free time and I was allowed to do so, I apprenticed under a master smith in the city.”  
“Where you were recruited for the guard?” she probed, bringing the story full circle to what he had finished telling her.   
She rubbed the soft cloth over the face of the wolf and studied it more closely. “Did you make this?” she asked, starting to piece things together.   
Her question drew his attention again, “Yes.” he searched her face for what reaction it might invoke. 

She smiled at him and reached her hand out and placed it on his arm that was wrapped up in the linnen. “Thank you.” she started, then continued, “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” her eyes glassy with feeling.   
He smiled back, wanting so badly to pull her into him and kiss her deeply, to probe her mouth with his tongue, lift the fabric of her underdress and take her here, in the dirt, next to the fire. But instead he simply enjoyed the closeness of her tender touch. He understood that she was not some girl he could quickly ravage and discard. No, she was special and unique, worthy of worship and devotion. He wanted her to want him as desperately as he wanted her, and he would wait till then. 

The meat sizzled again, attracting her attention. She removed it from the fire, and passed him a large piece before serving herself a portion.

* * *

After finishing her meal, she retired to her new tent alone. Slipping between the heavy skins, she shivered as a chill ran down her spine. She let out a short whistle calling Fenrir to her side. She patted the ground next to her, and he circled before obliging. The large wolf was almost as long as she was, and he warmed her side. She heard Cassius get up and retreat into his own tent, Fenrir ears twitched but he didn’t move or alert at the now common sound. It was curious to her how comfortable he was by Cassius, as he never really took to anyone who wasn’t her immediate family. 

Her mind drifted back to their exchange this evening. Her closeness to his body, feeling the heat radiate off him, the way his smell made her feel drunk with desire. Their intimate exchange, and almost kiss… She pondered what he had said, and smiled again, her heart welling at the thought of the beautiful gift he had crafted her.   
She had wronged him, not only with her cruel words said out of spite and jealousy, but she had an inaccurate picture of him painted in her mind. He was a fiercely noble and respectable man who did what he knew to survive. He had suffered many hardships, been treated poorly, and she grew to feel strongly for him. It wasn’t pity, but more of a protectiveness as he lowered his walls and revealed the vulnerabilities that lie inside.   
She resigned herself to do better. She didn’t know quite how, but he deserved better from her, and she would try her hardest to live up to it. 

She ran her fingers through the wolf’s fur, petting and occasionally scratching his skin. More for her own benefit, for the comfort it brought, then for his. His fur smelled familiar, and it reminded her of home. She had hardly spent a day without him by her side. Her constant companion, her shadow. She closed her eyes, her face buried in the fur on his back, and thought back to her childhood, of playing in front of the hearth. Of the sound of her Ma’s singing in the background.   
With the thoughts of her pleasant memories, she slipped into a deep sleep. 

* * *

She awoke the next morning, slipped out of the furs feeling refreshed. She yawned and stretched her arms wide, and knocked Fenrir accidentally, to which he made a noise akin to “Hrmph.” Obviously displeased at being disturbed. The sound and smell of searing meat on the fire tempted her out into the morning sun after pulling on her leather armour, now oiled and cleaned from the night before. 

Cassius was breaking down his tent, rolling it up and fastening the ends with ties.   
“You have to leave him here, you know.” He said to her, standing up and indicating with his head the direction of Fenrir. “The desert is only another day out, and no place for a wolf.”   
She bit her lip, and pondered his words. He was right, shade was already more scarce as it was, he would do terribly out in the hot sun with so many layers of dark fur. She pouted unhappily to herself at the thought of leaving him behind. 

Cassius stood and looked at her, waiting for acknowledgment, after attaching his pack to Arion’s saddle. 

“Yeah.” She said finally, with a hint of sadness and much consideration. She knew he would be fine on his own. Wildlife here was plentiful, but would he be here when she returned? Would she ever return? It felt like it meant goodbye. 

Almost sensing the topic at hand, Fenrir also made his appearance, bowing low to the ground with his front legs and stretching deeply. He shook his body, coat sending hairs into the air, getting caught by the light breeze and floating slowly away. He sniffed the air and licked his chops. With his head low to the ground, she watched him trot over to the bear carcass, sticking his face in the opened abdomen and tearing out pieces of flesh. 

She turned away, packing up her own tent, saddling her horse, and helping to break down the camp. 

Fenrir had his fill of meat, and was lying in a patch of dirt, grooming himself. She whistled and patted her thigh, calling him to her. Cassius mounted his horse and watched the exchange.   
The wolf sat before her, and she knelt in front him, wrapping her arms around his fluffy neck, hugging him tightly. Her face was pained and she swallowed hard, the first tears starting to stream down her face. “You have to stay here, friend.” She said now holding his face and looking into his pale golden eyes. He nuzzled her face, and she wiped his tears on the side of his muzzle. She got up, and assuming they were leaving, he got up as well and his tail wagged. 

She mounted her saddle, and walked her horse forward to join Cassius. The wolf followed behind entering the road. She turned and commanded “Fenrir! Stay!” and held her hand up palm out to him, as if to say halt. He whined and paced side to side, but did not approach closer, finally sitting to watch them ride off into the horizon. She glanced at Cassius who was watching the exchange, with a solemn look of concern. She turned her face away from him so he could not watch her cry, as she left her familiar behind.


	9. The Market of Flesh

The sun beat down on them as they walked their horses through the unrelenting heat. The sand blew into them with the wind, which instead of offering relief added another layer to their misery. She donned her thick black cloak, only to protect her from the harsh rays promising to redden and blister her delicate fair skin. Flanked by cliffs on both sides, they followed a narrow trail, that threatened to give way at any moment and fall into the deep ravine and narrow creek below. 

Off in the distance, the horizon appeared to be made of fire. After several hours of travel, he finally spotted a ruined castle, decrepit and clinging to the side of the rock face. They came nearer, and dismounted their horses, Aurora stepped forward, and he grabbed her by the arm pulling her close.   
In a low voice only she could hear, he warned: “This is a dangerous place, do not leave my side, keep your hood up when possible, and do not speak unless spoken to.”  
“But it’s so hot!” She whined.   
He pinched her arm harder, forcing her to look at the seriousness in his face, overestimating his strength, she winced prompting him to release his grip. She pulled her hood back on, and also wrapped her cloak closer around her body before falling in step behind him as they walked towards the stables. 

Her eyes went wide with awe, as she saw the assortment of animals latched near to the stalls. These tall 4 legged creatures with mountainous backs and knobby joints, foreign to a girl who had never been so far south.   
He paid a young boy, maybe no more the 12 winters, a single gold coin and handed over the reigns of their horses after removing their packs. His steed was reluctant to follow, but he whispered a few quiet words into its ear, and smacked its rump, nudging it forward. 

The oversized gate in the exterior wall creaked open and they entered. The inside bustled with life. There was a busy market, vendors selling their wares, performers played music and danced, and a few dirty children darted through the people milling about.   
He walked forward, and sensing she was no longer with him, he looked over his shoulder. She stood frozen in place, eyes locked onto the going ons in the corner. A large stage was populated with a few mostly naked people, a darker skinned man in the corner yelling into the crowd in a language he didn’t understand. The sharp crack of a whip was audible over the crowd, and a woman on the stage shrieked, falling to her knees, holding her face in her hands. Aurora cringed with her whole body, an involuntary reaction, like she sympathy felt the woman’s pain. 

He grasped her hand, his fingers intertwining between hers, and drew her away from the horror, guiding her through the swirling masses of people. 

He stopped eventually, coming to a stone doorway he recognized from his previous trips through this outpost eas an inn. He ducked his head into the low door and stepped inside. The stone kept the interior considerably cooler than it was out in the hot air and sun of the market.   
He let go of Aurora’s hand, and walked towards the back, negotiating for a room, and some food and drink to be brought up. They agreed on a price, and he handed over a few gold pieces, bowed his head, and indicated to her that she should follow, he headed up the stairs key in hand. 

They removed their packs, and placed them on the ground. He rolled out his bear skins onto the floor next to the bed. She stripped off her cloak, and headed to the washbowl of water, splashing her face and neck. A quiet knock came at the door, and he cracked it open, taking a tray of food and 2 mugs of spiced drink from an older woman, before closing the door again and locking it. He placed it on the table and they both pulled up chairs. He reclined back in his chair and sipped his drink, water with swirling clumps of exotic spices. She tore off a piece of bread and dabbed it into some of the savory pastes spread out along the plate garnished with greens. 

“They were being sold weren’t they?” She asked finally.   
He looked at her thoughtfully. She was obviously still upset at the happening from the market. “Yes.” He told her truthfully.   
“I had heard of the slavers from the south,” she started, “but I underestimated their pure brutality.”   
“Do you understand why I said the things I did then?” He asked, wanting to impress that he had her best interests at heart.   
She nodded in acknowledgement, continuing to chew, and looking down at the bread in her hands.   
“We are here to figure out how to gain access to the palace safely.” he explained, “I have to leave to ask around and find questions. I will come back to retrieve you when I feel it is safe. Do you understand?”  
She nodded again, still not looking in his direction.   
He locked his foot under the leg of her chair, and pulled it towards him. Leaning in towards her and finally catching her gaze, he spoke softly. “Keep this door locked at all times. Do not open it for anyone except me.”   
“Yeah, ok.” She acknowledged.  
He stood up to leave, and she grabbed his arm with her hand, causing him to wince slightly. He turned to face her and she looked up at him with eyes full of concern, adding, “Be careful.”   
He flashed a cavalier smile, furrowing his brows, “Me? Of course!” He responded in a jesting tone. 

* * *

The hefty door closed behind him, and she stood flipping the latch as instructed. She picked up a mug and took a swig, considering the new and unique flavors before swallowing it. Having eaten her fill, she walked over to an ornately carved window and running her fingers over the details, opened it. It let in a bit of a warm breeze, bringing in the smells of the roasted meats being cooked nearby.   
Suddenly aware of her body, she realized her leather was stifling hot. She unlaced the sides and peeled it free of her wet skin and stepped out of her boots. She removed her mother’s medallion, tucking it carefully into the front pocket of her pack.   
She pulled her old riding gear out of her pack and laid it out on the bed, which was covered with a bright fabric, embroidered with metallic thread and small disk shaped beads, giving it a glittering appearance. She stretched out onto the bed nude, arching her back and twisting from side to side. Trying to relax and stretch out the aches and pains of spending so many days on horseback. She relished the sensation of the air floating over her damp body, cooling her off as she dried. Finally letting herself relax, she accidentally drifted off into a warm afternoon nap. 

A short while later, she awoke, the sun had now disappeared and the desert air was considerably cooler. Inside the room were tiny lanterns, carved similarly to the window, she hadn’t noticed before. They had flames inside that flicked shapes on the walls, making the room come to life. There was also the deep earthy smell of incense emanating from some of them. She stirred softly in the almost romantic atmosphere, taking it for a moment, before realizing ‘Who lit them?’ She sat up startled, eyes darting around the room. She found Cassius’s form once again brooding in the corner next to the table, his eyes watching her.   
‘Apparently a common theme with him,’ she thought to herself. Clutching her riding gear to her torso trying to cover her nakedness, she glared at him. She noticed a piece of red embroidered fabric that hadn’t been there early was neatly folded at her feet. 

“How did you get in here?!” She accused.   
“I knocked and you didn’t answer.” she could hear the smile in his voice, “So I used the key.”   
“You didn’t bother waking me up?” She picked up her riding clothes ready to dress.   
“And ruin such a beautiful sight? I think not, Princess.” He said with a chuckle, adjusting slightly in his chair. “The red dress will be more appropriate and comfortable.” He added, nodding to the fabric at her side.   
“I’m almost surprised you didn’t just pull your cock out.” She rolled her eyes, and shook out the fabric holding it up to examine it, it was beaded and embroidered with tiny elements that glittered in the flickering lights of the lanterns. She pulled the lightweight fabric over her head, it was full length with a high neck, and did not cling to her form like the leathers did, tho her shape was still mildly visible.   
He grinned at her usage of such a lurid word. “It wouldn’t have been nearly as nice as you pulling it out for me,” he drawled suggestively.  
Her cheeks flushed hotly at the sentiment and visual it gave her.   
She couldn’t see his face, but she could imagine it well enough when he made flirtatious comments toward her. Always an intense, smoldering look, his green eyes piercing into her, a slight pout to his lips. She wished she could say it didn’t have any effect on her, but she was almost helpless to fight him. He knew he was attractive, and if she wasn’t careful she could easily end up another of his conquests.   
“Well thank you for the dress.” she said finally, hiding her blushing face from his gaze. 

He stood up, her cloak draped over his arm, and offered his hand. 

“Fantastic greeting aside,” smirking mischievously, not willing to let it go quite yet, “I have received a lead I believe will be fruitful.”  
She took his hand and he helped her up, bending in close and inhaling her hair, before guiding her forward with his hand at the small of her back.   
The inn was now bustling with unique music full of drums, stringed instruments and horns she didn’t recognize. Men gathered, eating, drinking, talking and laughing, and he noticed that besides the old woman who worked in the inn, there were no other women present. Even in her hooded and obstructed form, men leered and whispered. What was this bizarre place? They stepped into the street, a handful of lanterns list the sandy cobblestone street. They walked briskly, turning down this corridor and that, many having the stench of waste wafting from them, before finally they seemed to have reached their destination, a single red scarf was tied to a lantern post outside a door. 

Cassius knocked on the heavy wood, a small window slid open and a dark figure grunted inside. “I am here to see Kazir.” Cassius stated. After a pause, the small wooden window slid close and the click of a heavy latch being released was audible before the door swung open. They stepped forward only to be immediately grabbed and frisked by 2 large men and the door slammed shut behind them. The men quickly relieved them of their weapons, and ripped down her hood before stepping back.   
“Security measures, you can't be too careful, you understand” came the thick-accented voice of a man in a chair with his back turned to them.   
Her eyes fought to adjust to their new surroundings. Tiny fires lit in intricately carved lanterns, The smell of thick musty incense filled the room, only vaguely masking the putrid scent of offensive body odor. The walls were lined with ornately woven fabrics, and tapestries. A gangly man covered in an excessive amount of gold and jewels turned in the chair to face them, gesturing towards 2 seats in front of a desk. “Please sit.”   
Unarmed, exposed and essentially trapped, she sent a pensive glance at Cassius, who if he was uncomfortable or concerned, didn't show it.   
Kazir stood up and slowly walked around them as Cassius began to speak “We are here seeking entrance-”  
“I know why you are here.” the foreign man cut him off, his attention focused solely on Aurora. “You made such a scene trying to find it, you are lucky the Magistrate hasn’t gotten to you” He reached out to brush a blond strand out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, bringing his face closer to hers. Her stomach turned in disgust and she recoiled away from his touch. His skin looked like dark leather, what she assumed was the byproduct of years under the unyielding desert sun. With a crooked tooth filled grinned he asked “Is your whore for sale?” Indignant and taken aback, she gasped looking at Cassius, and before she could form words, he responded “She is not.”  
“Pity.” She could feel his hot sour breath on her skin, “For she would make an excellent addition to my harem.” He spun around directing his attention to her companion again.   
“You are seeking access to certain high ranking individuals, and I have knowledge of an exclusive event that is to be held in a week's time. I have even procured a single ticket to said event in case I was in the area and feeling inclined to go.” he drawled before continuing. “I am willing to part with the ticket for a price.”   
They negotiate the entire 200 gold that she had and Cassius handed over the pouch. As instructed she said nothing, but compiled the earful he would get when they got back to their room.   
After the deal was completed, they stood to leave and she pulled up her hood. They were handed back their weapons and Kazir called out to her before leaving, “Hopefully I will see you again, sooner than later.” His comment made her skin crawl, and the way the brutes at the door eyeballed her made her uncomfortable, she couldn’t get out fast enough.   
They stepped forth out into the cool desert night air, and she immediately clung to his arm in her insecurity. He hesitated at her initiation of contact, before pulling her form close in, and escorting her back into the inn.


End file.
